Prompts from respitechristopher; character choice is mine.
XI
(Arthur – diffident)
Arthur regarded the beautifully wrapped present on his bed worriedly. It had taken him three attempts to get the wrapping and the frilly bow just so, and even now he was not sure it was right. And the card – had he got the balance right? Monica was his girlfriend, and he cared about her, he really did, but… He didn't want to give the impression that he cared more than he actually did.
Would she be happy with what he had got for her? Girls were difficult. Monica was more difficult than most. He sighed, shouldered his schoolbag and put the present and card carefully in the top. He would give them to her after breakfast, after the owls came with the inevitable shower of birthday greetings for her.
In the great hall, he ignored the sniggers of his best friends Daniel and Carlos, and walked past them to sit opposite Monica. She beamed at him and he smiled nervously back, giving her a muttered, "I'll give you your present after breakfast." Monica smiled back, and Arthur concentrated on his porridge, glad that he hadn't upset Monica yet today.
Looking up briefly to fill his glass with pumpkin juice, he saw Monica's friend Molly Prewett looking over at him, and without thinking about it, he smiled at her.
Monica scowled.
Why did she have to make things so difficult?
Life would be easier with a girl like Molly.
XII
(Tonks and Moody – dismissal)
She was not going to cry. She was determined about that. Whatever happened, she was going to keep a brave face and save her personal feelings until she was alone.
But she had wanted this so much.
She had worked so hard for it, given up so much, and now it was slipping away.
She was not going to cry.
She took a deep breath and tapped on the door.
"Come in!" commanded a gruff voice, and she obeyed.
The man behind the desk did not look up as she entered, continuing to scribble at the notes in front of him while she stood nervously in front of his desk. When she had reached the point where she felt she would scream if he continued to ignore her, he finally looked up. He regarded her calmly, without smiling, and she tried her hardest to look back at him with equal calm. She was not going to cry.
Eventually, he nodded. "Sit down, girl," he ordered, and she did as she was told.
Alastor Moody smiled grimly at her. "Made a bit of a mess of that, didnt you, lass?" he asked gruffly.
Tonks gulped. "Yes. Yes sir." Why couldn't he just get on and get it over with?
"And now no doubt you're expecting your dismissal, right? We can't have an Auror who trips over her own feet in the field."
Tonks swallowed. "No sir. I realise that. Thank you for giving me the chance to try sir." She rose from her chair. She had to get out of here before she started crying.
He looked up at her, his scarred face fierce and his magical eye whirling. "Sit down!" he shouted. "Did I tell you to get up?"
Tonks blinked and swallowed and subsided once more into her chair. "Sorry sir," she muttered. Why did he have to prolong this?
Moody shuffled the papers in front of him, picked up a quill and scribbled something on one of them and looked at her with something that might have been a smile.
"So..." he said gruffly. "You have the makings of a good Auror, girl. Even if you are the clumsiest recruit it's been my misfortune to meet. But we can deal with that if you're willing to work hard. Are you?"
Tonks didn't quite believe what she was hearing. Was she being given a second chance?
"Well?"
She nodded. "Yes. Yes I am, sir."
"Good," he grunted. "Report to me here at seven thirty tomorrow morning. I'll get you through the retake of Stealth and Tracking if it kills me." He smiled properly then, his scarred face twisting. "Which it very well might."
Tonks began to stammer out her thanks, but he cut her short.
"Go!" he said fiercely. "Go and have a good cry and get it over with, and I'll see you back here tomorrow morning. Goodnight."
And he turned back to his paperwork, ignoring her as completely as if he was totally alone in the room.
Tonks made it out into the street before she began to cry.
